The Road to Stockholm
by Irene Sharda
Summary: After the shot from Avalon, Suzaku was captured by the Black Knight Order and from there, things got a little problematic. Idea originally conceived by Jusrecht *Zero x Suzaku*
1. Note to Readers

Note to Readers:

Hi! I'm Irene Sharda. About five months ago, I became the new writer/owner of the fanfiction story: The Road to Stockholm, originally written by Jusrecht, who chose to discontinue it. The first two chapters were written by her, and nothing except a few grammar errors, has been changed. Everything after Chapter 2, will be my own work, so you will probably see a drastic change of styles. I sincerely hope this will not really be much of an issue for people.

In terms of the plot, Jusrect has given me full ownership rights and I shall be shaping the plot to the way I envision it. One thing should be known. This is an **AU**!

As Jusrecht said in the beginning, everything up to episode 18 of season one has occurred, but after that, all bets are off. If it helps, erase episodes 19-25 and the entire second season from your mind, none of it happens! Now you will meet characters from those missing episodes, some familiar, some not, but they will more than likely have different roles, relationships, and pasts then they had in the canon series. I won't really change their personalities or abilities much.

Well, we'll see how this goes, and I am going to try my best. Please be patient with me, and keep reading!

Love,

I.S.


	2. Chapter 1

**The Road to Stockholm  
Original Author: Jusrecht**

**Pairings: **Zero x Suzaku and hints of SuzaLulu. Yes, they are different, you see. Lelouch has this kind of… not exactly MPD, but let's just say that he is a slightly different when he's being Zero.

**Warnings: **Yaoi / slash with explicitness in later chapters. SPOILERS up to episode 18 of the first season and will not follow the original storyline past that. Enough angst and messing up with head to break your brain.

**Disclaimer: **These fabulous characters and Code GEASS belong to Sunrise. I only own the plot (or lack thereof) in this fic.

**Summary: **After the shot from Avalon, Suzaku was captured by the Black Knight Order and from there, things got a little problematic. (Zero x Suzaku, hints of SuzaLulu)

--

**Chapter One**

--

Suzaku had never felt more uncomfortable in his life.

He was lying on his side, left arm trapped uncomfortably under his weight and both hands twisted into an awkward position behind his back. He woke up with thick numbness clutching his body but when he tried to move, a variety of muscles screamed in protest.

Suzaku settled back onto the hard bedding with a groan, his head spinning madly. Squeezing his eyes shut, he waited until the pain subsided before risking another attempt to move. This time, it was a great deal smoother, only leaving a trace of uncomfortable stinging in his shoulders. However, it also made him realize that for some reasons, both of his hands were unable to move.

His eyes flew open immediately. A few tests and a desperate groan later, Suzaku came to the conclusion that his hands were bound, possibly with handcuffs if the hard metal digging into his wrist was anything to go by. As to how he could end up like this here–

And then he remembered. Of course.

No, _not_ of course. The last thing he remembered was Zero. Zero in his Lancelot and he was pointing a gun at him. He was ready to die. He was ready to take Zero with him. Everything simply blurred past that point.

What had happened?

Carefully, Suzaku raised his head, deflecting a wave of incoming headache, and looked at his surrounding. The room was small, yellow-glazed under the light emitted by a single bulb hanging at the center of the room, and completely barren. Apparently he was lying on the floor, nothing but a thin sheet softening the ground for his bruised body.

That was when he realized that he no longer wore his pilot suit. In its place was a white T-shirt and loose pants, obviously much bigger than his normal size. And finally, a brief glance to his feet told him that they were also tied up.

Suzaku sighed and rested his head on the hard floor again. He tried to sort some things out, but the dull throbbing in his head did not help. There was only one thing he could make out: he was captured. He didn't know who his captor was but had a pretty good guess on it.

Yes, he had a good guess. In fact, he was almost certain he was right.

Once more Suzaku glanced around. There was no camera or any other recording device as far as he could see. The only entrance into the room was a lone door standing at the far wall to his left. He wondered if it was guarded, but his ears only captured a distant hum, the kind of sound one would hear in total silence. It seemed that he was alone.

And suddenly he heard something. Suzaku stiffened. The sound started out softly, but it became clearer by the seconds and he realized a moment later that it was the sound of footsteps approaching.

Someone… no, three people were coming.

He watched the door with mounting anxiety and true enough, it was opened from the other side not long after. Two figures appeared at the doorway, both wearing black attires that he had come to know so well, guns ready on their hands. It was when his narrowed eyes fell on the third however, that he suddenly wished that his guess was wrong.

Considering how many times he had almost killed the leader of the Black Knight Order, it would be an absolute miracle if he managed to escape from this situation unharmed.

His captors stepped into the room without a word and approached him. Zero stopped a good few feet away but the other two proceeded to grab him, roughly pulling him up so he ended up kneeling in front of their leader. Suzaku didn't fight them and only glared at the masked man, who dismissed his subordinates with a flick of his hand. They left the room and closed the door behind them, but there was no sound of footsteps to tell him that they were leaving.

"Major Kururugi," Zero addressed him, his tone formal but with a hint of derision in it. Suzaku didn't answer and only continued to glare. This, however, didn't seem to bother the terrorist.

"I hope you aren't too uncomfortable," he said again, this time more casually. His voice was rich and deep and had a familiar tinge in it, which strangely reminded Suzaku to summer. But that didn't make sense. This man would be the last person on Earth he could relate to summer in any way.

"I cannot care less whether I'm comfortable or not," he replied defiantly, silently wishing that his voice sounded stronger but absence of use had left it rough and a little on the weak side. "What do you want with me?"

"Your cooperation obviously," the masked man answered, "but it appears that I will need to apply a little persuasion."

"You will need a lot more than that."

"So I've noticed," Zero said mildly and stepped closer, his full height towering over him. "You misunderstand my intention. I know you disagree with many of my methods, but we essentially want the same thing. The liberation of Japan. The freedom of its people from oppression. So what say you if we join forces?"

"No," the answer left his mouth as soon as the offer was put forth. "And I have no forces whatsoever. You're looking in the wrong place."

"You set a very low value on yourself," the other man informed him, amusement shading his voice. "I'm talking about half of the Japanese population who regard you as a hero. I'm talking about your position as the son of Japan's former Prime Minister and the influence you have on these people. Don't tell me you aren't aware about this."

In fact, he wasn't, but Suzaku wasn't about to admit it to a terrorist who also happened to be his captor, and so he stayed silent.

"Too bad," Zero said again, not a trace of surprise in his voice. "Anyway, now you know your price in our bargain."

Suzaku could only stare at him for a long moment. He must admit that he was lost. This was the man he had tried to kill not only once or twice, but many, _many_ times, and if he could as much as move right now, he would do it again without the slightest hesitation. And he was fairly certain that Zero knew it too. For him and the rest of the Black Knight, it would be better if the pilot of Lancelot didn't exist.

But Zero was still waiting for his response, and so he opened his mouth again. "Even if what you say is true, I think they like me because I am who I am," he answered, refusing to give up his ground no matter how little. "And I'm not going to join you."

This didn't seem to discourage the masked man. "Well, then let me tell you about our current situation," he purred and started circling his prisoner slowly, black cape rustling in his wake, and Suzaku realized that they were playing the predator-and-prey game.

"You have disappeared," Zero began with a flourish of his cape, nothing short of a professional story-teller, "but I'm still alive. The world has seen that I'm still alive. Your mission failed. In Britannia, you are considered a deserter at best or a traitor at worst. No one knows of your whereabouts. To half of the Japanese people who love you deeply, your disappearance proves that there is no hope for them. To the other half, it's an immense relief."

He paused and when his voice pealed again, it was right in front of the young soldier's ear. "But to me, it's an opportunity."

Suzaku turned and stared at the mask, trying to contain his anger at this obvious attempt of intimidation. "My answer hasn't changed," he retorted sharply.

"I won't be so quick to say that," the other man said, his voice as cold as ice, and Suzaku suddenly found his inability to look at his opponent's face very unsettling. Above everything else, this was what made him realize that they didn't stand on an equal ground.

"No, I won't submit to you," he repeated, hoping that none of his uneasiness was reflected in his voice. "You will have to kill me first."

"You haven't heard the rest," Zero told him calmly and something in his tone made Suzaku feel nervous all of a sudden. "I want you to consider my proposition carefully because your answer may affect someone else's fate."

A shocked silence followed and Suzaku felt his world collapsing around him. If there was something he feared more than to see someone dying in front of his eyes, it was to be the cause of their death.

"What?" he whispered, his voice almost inaudible.

Even with the mask, he could tell that the terrorist was pleased at the effect of his words. "I don't need the whole school," Zero said slowly, as if to give his two next sentences a grander entrance, a proper emphasis. "Only one. That dark-haired boy, for example?"

_Lelouch_.

A different kind of fear rushed in his blood, along with a surge of anger. "Don't you dare touch him!" Suzaku shouted, feeling his whole body trembling.

The other man acted like he didn't hear his outburst. "He is your friend, isn't he? And I heard he's very smart. He will be useful for the Order if I can get him to join, which I can assure you will happen if your answer fails to please me."

"You're a bastard," the angry words came out through gritted teeth. "You're a damn terrorist!"

"I am someone who focuses on the result, a point which you have made yourself several weeks ago."

Suzaku could almost _hear_ the smirk in his voice. He sank back, strength draining from his body, fear, panic and hatred replacing them in every nook and crevice. He wasn't certain if there was anyone in this world he hated more than this man right now.

"Don't touch him," he whispered, hating how pitiful it sounded, almost like he was pleading.

"Then you have to consider my offer carefully," Zero stated and turned around, leaving him with a nightmare worse than any he had ever experienced because once more, he might just kill someone he loved.

_End Chapter One_


	3. Chapter 2

**The Road to Stockholm**

**Original Author: Jusrecht**

See**Pairings**, **Warnings, Disclaimer** and **Summary **in the first chapter, (applies for every chapter that follows).

**Chapter Two**

**--**

"Sit."

Suzaku only glared, completely ignoring the order. He wished that he could do something less… insignificant, but a tape effectively sealed his mouth and there was a gun pointed to his back, the tip nudging his ribs painfully. In addition to the handcuffs, his wrists were now tightly bound by ropes, the kind that hurt like a bitch because they cut into your skin. He practically couldn't _feel_ his fingers anymore, let alone move them.

The room he was brought into was of a medium size, sparsely furnished by a desk, a chair, and a long sofa. On the chair sat the epicenter of his problems, legs crossed and the ever-present black cape fastened around thin shoulders. A dark-skinned woman wearing a white lab coat stood at one corner of the room, her back to the wall and her eyes intent on him.

"I said 'sit'." Zero's voice unpleasantly pierced the silence again. For one brief moment, Suzaku was tempted to test how long he could let the situation to drag on if only to imagine what kind of face the terrorist would make at this display of insolence, but was forced to surrender after one of the Order members kicked the back of his knee. He unceremoniously fell, both knees colliding with the hard floor, adding more bruises to his already abused body. It was quickly followed by something hard hitting the back of his head and a blinding pain erupted. The next thing he knew, his face was already getting reacquainted with the floor.

"Stop it! I did not give you an order to do that!" An angry voice thundered, and through the thick colourful haze obscuring his mind, Suzaku came to the conclusion that it was Zero's. Which was strange, but the painful throbbing in his head made him unable to pursue that line of thought at the moment.

"He deserves it," a jarring, venomous voice answered, hatred dripping from every syllable.

"That is for me to decide," the Black Knight's leader hissed. "In this room no one does anything until I say so. Is that understood?"

A grudging silence followed. Suzaku didn't need to look up to detect the growing tension and decided to remain a messy heap on the floor, at least until the pounding in his head ebbed. His hope to be left alone was crashed when a hand reached for his right elbow and roughly jerked him up to a proper sitting position, pulling one or two of his muscles in the process. He winced slightly but otherwise remained as silent as a statue. He would not give the terrorist the satisfaction to see him break.

"This is… what? Your fourth, fifth attempt?"

Even if his mouth wasn't gagged, Suzaku wouldn't deign the snide comment with a reply. He only intensified his glare and hoped that it would have some effect on his enemy.

Which it didn't. Just like usual. In fact, Zero only tilted his head slightly to his right and called out, "Lakshata."

The dark-skinned woman in the corner stirred. She stepped forward from the shadows, a long smoking pipe between her taper fingers and a small frown on her face. She let her eyes roam over his body for a few seconds before looking back at Zero.

"I really don't approve of this," she said, her voice heavy with barely concealed reluctance.

"And I don't seek for your approval," Zero's reply didn't miss a beat. Her features tightened slightly at this rebuke, but an indifferent wave of his hand put an end to the argument. "Just get on with it. I will take all responsibilities should anything go wrong."

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Your order, Boss," she murmured and took out a small container from the pocket of her coat. Encased inside were a syringe and a small tube of silvery substance which looked very suspicious in Suzaku's opinion. His eyes widened when she removed the content of the tube into the syringe and proceeded to approach him, stopping only a few feet away.

"Before you freak out, I'll have you know that this isn't going to kill you," she told him with a loosely nonchalant voice which clashed spectacularly with how he felt seeing her flailing the sharp needle around. "It will only disable your legs for an hour or so because our eminent leader wishes to have a private audience with you without any foolish attempt from your part to either escape or attack him. However, I must inject the fluid precisely where I want to and if you as much as twitch while I'm doing it, let's just say that the effect is going to be very unpleasant for you."

Suzaku didn't react well to threats and the woman seemed to notice this too because she suddenly chuckled.

"You still aren't going to stay put, are you?" she clicked her tongue and shook her golden head slowly. He could easily pick up the amused note in her lazy voice and it made his face burn slightly. "Well, hold him down, boys. I don't want a bloody mess on my clothes."

It seemed to Suzaku that his guards – gaolers – were only too happy to have another reason to beat him senseless. One kicked his stomach, another pushed his shoulders flat to the floor while the other two pinned his legs, all done with evidently more force than necessary. This time Zero said nothing, not even when one of them viciously dug his fingers into Suzaku's skull to hold his head down. The bright lamp overhead made him blink furiously and the woman – Lakshata – took this chance to crouch next to him and roll up the ends of his pants.

The sharp sting on his upper shin made his blood boil. Suzaku wasn't a stranger to acts of degradation, but it didn't mean that he had to get used to them. Certainly not now, with this man. But the others were doing a good job keeping him down and he could only look up, staring at the expressionless mask of his captor and trying not to feel completely humiliated.

The effect of the injection was quick. In less than one minute, he could no longer feel his legs, let alone move them. The sensation was so new and foreign, way different from anything he had ever experienced that it made him panic for a moment. Losing any kind control had never sat well with Suzaku, but this really belonged somewhere in the top five. It pretty much rendered him helpless, what with his hands tied behind his back and his mouth still sealed.

Apparently satisfied, Zero waved a hand to dismiss the others, leaving him alone with his prisoner in the room. At this point, it was hard for Suzaku not to feel slightly intimidated. If the terrorist hadn't had an overwhelming advantage before, he certainly did now.

"When will you learn that not only that trying to escape is useless, it also worsens my men's mood?"

A hand forcibly tugged his face up and peeled the tape over his lips. The skin around them prickled, but Suzaku was all too conscious of the other man kneeling next to him and the fingers which still lingered on his face to spare his attention on anything else.

"If I haven't stopped them earlier, you would have been beaten to death," Zero continued, his voice rumbling darkly in the otherwise silent room.

"Why do you care?" Suzaku snapped and jerked his head away from the terrorist's gloved fingers. The sudden movement brought a fresh wave of pain to his chest, pulling a wrong muscle somewhere. It caught him unprepared and he couldn't help the low hiss escaping his mouth.

"Do you think I do?"

"I wouldn't be here if you don't," he bit out. "For you, I'm better off dead."

"And now you think you can read my mind," Zero said dryly and rose to his feet to reclaim his chair. He sat down, one leg crossing the other, and turned to his prisoner again. "Don't misunderstand your situation, Kururugi. I do not _care_ about you. It is the trouble you're causing me which continuously demands my attention."

"You know what to do to rid yourself of that trouble."

"Oh? Pray enlighten me then." For some reasons, the terrorist sounded almost amused, and that irritated Suzaku to no end.

"You can just kill me and be done with it," he growled, not caring if he had taken Zero's bait. This man infuriated him to degrees he never knew existed, from the inflection of his voice, to the way he sat, the very image of calm, to the way one finger tapped on the arm of the chair in a slow, methodical beat.

"That is certainly possible, yes," the reply was a low, almost lazy drawl, "but unfortunately the method is too ungainly for my taste."

Suzaku very nearly laughed at this. "That's coming from _you_? Killing people is ungainly? Like it has ever bothered you before."

"Certain sacrificing has to be made when necessity arises," Zero said in a philosophical manner. "However, your circumstances are quite different as they are. Some complications notwithstanding, you can be a great asset to the Order… if trained properly."

"Only when hell freezes over."

"I'll have an endless snowstorm in hell if it is what it takes."

It should take surprise, or some kind of astonishment out of him, but it was hard for Suzaku not to sneer at this. "And you said you didn't care about me."

The moment of silence after his accusation left a bittersweet tang of victory in his mouth. The situation was absurd, but suddenly it didn't matter if he was still lying helpless on the ground, or if his opponent had every chance to abuse him in the worst way imaginable. The fact that he was winning was enough.

It had not taken long before the silence became rather unsettling and the blissful inaction turned into instant suspicion. It took a few seconds too long for the other man to finally reply, "Although I do enjoy sarcasm every now and then, I must admit that you are testing my limit."

"Maybe because you've never stood at the receiving end," Suzaku retaliated hotly, still giddy, wanting that the taste of triumph again but the suspicion wouldn't leave him. And when Zero opened his mouth again, he realized that there _was_ a reason to be suspicious.

"Are you sure you want to annoy me, Kururugi?"

It shut him up. Suzaku hadn't forgotten what this man had over him – how could he anyway. To suffer his anger in silence seemed to be his only choice because if he dared as much as to open his mouth right now, the things he said would be so inordinately offensive that it would give the Black Knight's leader a very good reason to follow through the rest of his threat. Getting Lelouch in trouble was the last thing he wanted right now.

As if he could read his mind, Zero reached for a large brown envelope on his desk and took out the contents, which he then tossed to the floor next to him. Suzaku felt his eyes widening.

"I believe these are what you want to see?"

They were photographs. Of _Lelouch._ Suzaku would have jumped up to a sitting position if he was able to, but the action proved to be a lot harder to perform with both legs currently out of service. He ended up lying on his side, half on his upper right arm. It should have been painful, but he had lost every ability to care about his well-being at the moment. The pictures had seized his full attention.

They were taken in school, from quite a distance but clear enough for him to make sure that it was really Lelouch – a distance, he realized with a shudder, close enough to effectively put a bullet in his friend if he dared to try anything. The pictures were all different, some featuring Lelouch in his school uniform, some in his usual combination of red jacket and black turtleneck, some in the school ground, some through the window looking into the closed confines of his bedroom. A particular one caused a chill to run down Suzaku's spine. It was taken at night and the object of the picture was sleeping with a vaguely troubled expression shadowing his face, completely unaware of the presence of the intruder.

It was way too close. Too dangerous. The taker of the picture could have put his fingers around Lelouch's neck and it would be over before it even started. Suzaku looked up quickly at Zero, ignoring the flash of pain the movement had caused.

"He is all right, isn't he?"

"If I say yes, will you believe me?"

The question struck a nerve somewhere inside him and Suzaku knew that his whole reaction was reflected on his face. He bit his lips, eyes raking across the strewn out pictures briefly, and tried to decide which was worse, giving into his fear or giving into defeat.

"Maybe," he forced himself to mutter at last.

"Well, that's a surprise," Zero replied dryly, his voice entirely devoid of said surprise. "What happened to 'you're a damn terrorist'?"

"You're still a damn terrorist."

"I'll remember that," the slight note of amusement had returned, although there was something darker and sharper now shadowing it. "Now, can we discuss our business in a civil manner or do you want to continue to sulk?"

Suzaku thought about the handcuffs, ropes, tape, injection, and wanted to retort which part of them was 'civil' but held his tongue. _Lelouch._ _Remember Lelouch._

"I have given you one week," Zero continued, obviously taking his silence as a sign of resignation. "What is your answer?"

It was a stupid hope, but Suzaku found himself clinging to that faint hope in the horizon that he could buy more time by steadily refusing to answer. As with everything which concerned the terrorist, he watched it turn unfavorable to him faster than the blink of an eye.

"Obviously you were too busy planning fruitless attempts of escape instead of considering an offer which may be able to save your friend's life," the masked man deadpanned, completely unimpressed by his obstinate silence. Suzaku had to refrain an urge to beat something at this constant – undoubtedly deliberate – allusion to Lelouch.

"What do you want me to do?" he finally asked through gritted teeth.

"I want you to work with me."

"No."

"Work under me then."

"No," he snarled, "I'll die first before–"

"I must admit that I'm getting tired of this combined trait of stubbornness and stupidity," Zero interrupted him, his voice rising slightly. "When will it go through your thick skull that it isn't your life which is at stake here?"

Another moment of silence occurred. This time it wasn't woven with traces of victory – rather the complete opposite. Hate wasn't enough to describe how Suzaku felt toward this... complete and utter bastard of a leader of the terrorist group. He _loathed_ him, to the point where it leached away every other thought and emotion but that one obsession of simply loathing. His entire body was shaking with so much anger. Hate. Anger. Hate. Everything else ceased to matter.

_But Lelouch…_ _Lelouch._

"If I agree, will you promise not to hurt him?" Suzaku tried to ignore the stinging pain of humiliation. At the tremor which had leaked into his voice and painted his words into a desperate plea. At the fact that he had knelt and surrendered.

"Of course not," the reply was clear-cut and dispassionate. "That depends on the duration of your loyalty to me."

"You can never have my loyalty," he spat.

"Your service then," a note of irritation slipped into Zero's voice. "Name it what you want, Kururugi. I cannot care less as long as you obey my orders."

Suzaku fell onto his back, eyes involuntarily shutting, right arm long since going numb. It was an admission of defeat, he knew, but he had given away too much ground. A little more wouldn't matter. "What do you want me to do?" he repeated numbly.

"For now, just live," the other man's voice sounded oddly strangled. "Don't do anything stupid like trying to escape despite knowing the volatility of my men's temper."

"They hate me enough to want me dead."

"You can make them un-hate you if you really want."

"What if they end up killing me anyway?" the question simply fell from his mouth. Suzaku knew that it was only for the sake of an argument. He was too far gone to care. All he could think of was the fact that his hands were bound and this man had used Lelouch against him and Lelouch… Lelouch…

"Well, then keep this one little detail in mind," Zero seized the front of his shirt and pulled him up. His voice was low, menacing, but with a violent, almost desperate edge to it, and the way it echoed in his head made Suzaku want to scream.

"If you die, so does your dearest friend."

Zero let him go just as quickly and his upper body hit the floor with a dull thud. Suzaku was too shaken to notice. And the other man didn't linger.

"Your legs will be able to move again in half-an-hour," the tone of his voice had returned to that untouchable scale of indifference. "I'll send someone to escort you back then."

And with that he was left alone in the room. The gasp which left his mouth sounded more like a sob, and it trailed away into a train of mirthless laughter. The lingering doubt – _fear_ – he had tried to bury sprang out from the damp, cold earth of his memory and stared at him in the face. He could continue refusing to accept the stark fact, but even the stupid, hopelessly naive boy in him knew when believing in your best friend had turned into making a fool out of yourself.

His laughter had died away. Enough was enough.

_End Chapter Two_


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When the door to his cell opened up this time, Suzaku didn't even bother to look up. His life for the past two weeks had reached a point of being restlessly mundane and he no longer felt the need to wonder about his fate.

Except for some nameless guard delivering his meals and taking away the dishes twice a day, he had been left totally alone.

_Totally._

_**Alone**_.

Even with his most hardening training, the loneliness and lack of human contact was beginning to get to him. He knew that all humans, even trained soldiers, needed some semblance of human contact, or there would be a point, where the delicate structure that was the human psyche, would start to collapse.

He also knew, that he himself would soon be reaching, that same exact point…

Suzaku had already made up his mind after his last "meeting" with the infamous leader of the Black Knights, that he could not risk another attempt at trying to escape. He knew that if he was caught, there was a good chance that he would most likely be beaten to death by _that man_'s subordinates, who were obviously quite eager to get a chance at spilling his blood. He could understand their hatred however.

Unlike the Britannian military, the Black Knights were not loyal to their leader out of fear or because of a hierarchy of rank. They truly believed in him, and would do anything for him, even if it meant giving up their own lives for their dark commander-in-chief. Knowing this, it was quite understandable that they would hate anyone who they viewed would be a threat to him, and Suzaku knew he could definitely be counted as a "threat".

If they caught him escaping again—which was more than likely, since he had already exhausted most of his options—there wouldn't be anyone to stop them from beating or shooting him to death. And while he was still quite strong, he was not able-bodied enough to take on a mob. However, despite how little he valued his own life, dying right now, was not an option.

"_If you die, so does your dearest friend."_

Zero's warning still rang loud and clear within his head, and even the naive depths of Suzaku's mind gave a cry of defeat as he knew Zero's threat was no mere bluff. Had Lelouch not been involved, Suzaku would have raged against his proverbial chains until they were broken, or until his lungs had seen their last breath. But, as is the cruelty of this world, it was more than the life of an Eleven soldier that demanded his obedience.

He refused to let another person he held close, die by his hand, whether it was directly, or through indirect means. Therefore, that meant no more suicidal plans or attempts to escape.

And so, day after day, he would bide his time by doing whatever his mind could think of. He'd count floor tiles, ceiling squares, _even_ linen fibers in an effort to keep himself occupied. The food and water they gave him was only enough to sustain his life…nothing more, nothing less. He was still weak from his healing injuries, but his daily walking exercise kept his muscles from turning completely to jelly. However, he could feel the effects, both physical and psychological on his being. With no one to talk to, he had stayed alone with his thoughts, thinking he could play Zero's isolation game, but time was calling his bluff.

It seemed the masked man would soon, once again be the victor…

And so, Suzaku had gotten so used to the routine routine of the day to day life of a prisoner, that he hardly looked up as the door to his cell creaked open.

"Kururugi Suzaku"

It wasn't spoken as a question, simply a factual statement. The voice that had shattered his monotonous silence, was devoid of any type of emotion or feeling whatsoever, as if nothing at all seemed to matter.

The scruffy-haired prisoner turned to look at the speaker, and was slightly surprised to see a young teenage boy standing in the open doorway, looking down at him with detached amethyst eyes that were so lifeless and cold, that they might as well have been made out of stone.

_He's only a kid, at least two years younger than me and, Zero already has him caught within his net._ Suzaku thought, noting the boy's OBK uniform.

When the brown-haired boy was sure that he had gotten the Britannian soldier's attention, he continued in that dreary voice that seemed to belay his age. "Zero-sama has sent for you. You are to follow me."

He contemplated on whether or not he should comply, or just be stubborn and see what the boy would do.

However, as if knowing his thoughts, the kid leisurely blinked and spoke again with that same impassive voice, "It matters not to me, whether or not you leave this room. However, within the next fifteen minutes, this area of the building will be incinerated and collapse to the ground. If you wish not to be part of the wreckage, I suggest you do as you are told."

Surprised by his statement, Suzaku made a quick decision that maybe, it would be wiser and more tactical to actually cooperate with the demand this time around.

Walking behind the dead-eyed kid, he found himself in a sea of noise as he left the soundproof environment of his cell. The sounds of rushing feet, fast moving equipment, barked orders, and the beeps and squawks of technology, pervaded the compound's surroundings. He recognized the meaning of the noise immediately; it was the same whether it was the military forces of Britannia, or the guerilla militia of the Black Knights.

"They're moving out…" Suzaku whispered to himself, "Why?"

The boy answered him nonchalantly, "Zero has given the order. That is all that need be known."

His mouth set in a grim line at the sound of the masked lunatic's name, but he refrained from saying anything that he might later regret. Instead he asked another, less testy, question.

"What does Zero want with me now?"

The other male's response was immediate, "I do not know the answer to that question, I am just doing as ordered."

Suzaku rolled his eyes in exasperation; this guy was beginning to sound like a broken record…

"Do you ever do anything, _other _than what you're ordered?"

The purple eyes flickered back at him over a tense shoulder, "Do _you_?"

The kid had a point, and Suzaku had to admit that he had underestimated the male's maturity and understanding. He, being a soldier, knew that there was a time to ask questions and there was a time to simply follow orders. However, the times for questions were few and far between, while orders were given and obeyed every second of every day. Wasn't it orders that had gotten him to this point? Sure he had made some of his own choices here and there, but wasn't it orders that had pushed him to having to make those choices?

However, there was also a time for instinct and opportunity, and he knew that amidst all this ruckus, it was his best chance to escape from out of the hands of the Order of the Black Knights and their hellish captain…

Turning down a secluded pathway, the ex-Knighmare pilot made his move as swiftly and efficiently as any trained army commando would have.

Promptly grabbing the pistol from the boy's side holster, he spun the kid around by his shoulder before kneeing him the stomach causing him to double over. Then thrusting him up against the wall with one hand and pushing the gun's barrel against the boy's neck, effectively clicking the first safety catch off. Suzaku couldn't help by smile a little, the whole maneuver took less than seven seconds and already the tides had turned to his favor.

"Now I don't know who you are, or why you decided to join these terrorists, but from now on, you're with me, and you're going to help me get out of here."

The adolescent didn't even bat an eye, "I'm sorry, but that is impossible."

The brown-haired pilot gritted his teeth, why did the kid have to be so stubborn? He didn't want to actually have to hurt him…

Yet, he pressed the gun barrel harder into the boy's flesh. "And why is that?"

_CLICK…_

Suzaku hadn't even had time to blink, before he found the boy gone from his grip and the stolen weapon vanished from his hand! He efficiently found the rolls reversed as the same gun he had used on his captor, was now being pushed into the side of his head, the second safety catch being pulled back loudly.

That same tedious, detached voice spoke once again, this time from **behind** him. "It is impossible because Zero-sama has ordered otherwise."

Still not understanding what just happened, he raised his hands in surrender, knowing that the boy would not lower his guard again, if he ever had in the first place.

His escort grabbed his arm, and kept the barrel trained on him, lowering the sights from his head to his back. Pushing him on, the two continued their way down the deserted path.

After a couple minutes, Suzaku was finally able to speak once again. "You have phenomenal reflexes."

The boy glanced at him for a second before answering, "Thank you."

Continuing on in silence, it was a good five minutes before they came to a set of large black double doors. Talking into a com link attached to his wrist, the boy announced their arrival, which was soon followed by the doors sliding open, allowing them entrance.

Suzaku felt the new atmosphere instantly surround him, as if it was some type of physical essence, spilling out from the darkness of the room's confines. It was honestly a hard decision on which was more deadly—the press of cold steel into his back, or the ominous ambiance in the chamber ahead.

However, he hardly had a choice in the matter either. Taking the final step into the room, he felt the kid soldier's grip loosen as the door closed. The boy walked away into the shadows and could hardly be detected by an untrained eye. But he didn't have to see the gun to know that it was firmly trained in on his chest. If he did so much as blink wrong, he would find himself very quickly falling onto the floor in a pool of his own blood, with a hole the size of his fist coming from out of his back.

"I'm glad to see you are starting to learn how to cooperate."

Turning around at the sound of the cold, authoritative voice that he now knew better than the back of his own hand, he sneered into the darkness. "So what is it that you want _this_ time?"

From out of the shadows, the most wanted man in the entire Britannian Empire, walked towards him. Dressed in the color of night, even an uncivilized and uncultured person would have to say that, the man cut the very essence of nobility and influence.

But with the look of aristocracy and grace, also came the sense of haunting mystique and trepidation. And anyone who dared to take on this forbidding symbol of the rebellion had better be ready to be in a fight for one's life. Because that was the stakes one became involved with, when they took on the infamous masked persona—Zero.

"My, my, you are an impatient one."

Walking past him in structured nonchalance, Zero sat down behind a large desk, a computer screen coming on before him. He seemed in perfect peace, despite the sounds to destruction and shouting voices that were filtering through the room's walls ever so slightly. Well, if this gilded viper could be so detached, that he could be the same. Suzaku decided against answering the man's sardonic remark. He was tired of playing into the man's hands…

After a minute Zero spoke again, "I am sure you have noticed by now that we are in the midst of changing the location of our central base. Some things have come up and I have had to move my plans forward much sooner than I had first intended."

Suzaku let the venom drip from his voice, "And what pray tell, does that have to do with me?"

The black caped leader, barely even registered that he had spoken, much less cared about his poison-laden formal speech. He continued to go through his computer files as if the man hadn't uttered a word.

"Other than that incident a few minutes ago, you obeyed my orders to the letter. You, of course will have to be punished for the insubordinate act you committed against the lieutenant here, however, I do believe that you may be ready for your first full-fledged task, since it seems that you are—_willing—_to obey my orders."

Suzaku felt his stomach twist with nauseous, simmering hatred as he was constantly, _**purposefully**_ reminded that he had forcibly submitted to this monster. "I only obey your orders because you threaten the innocent with pain and death. Make no mistake, you will never have my loyalty, and nothing you do to me or mine will ever change that. You have brainwashed so many into doing your dirty work, into becoming your _slaves_. But I tell you now—I will **never** belong to you!"

Behind his incomparable dark visage, Zero let a predatory grin crawl slowly upon his face. Kururugi was turning out to be the exact delightful challenge that he expected him to be. This was going to be truly interesting…

Despite his stoked interest, the leader of the Black Knights once again ignored the POW ex-pilot's venomous declaration, and instead continued with his selfsame blasé bearing. His voice, even at times, slightly tinged with derision.

"It seems to me, that it would make no sense starting you off, by burdening you with large 'conscience-racking' responsibilities, it would be much better to start small. Wouldn't you say?"

Suzaku could only let the anger simmer through him in response to the leader's snide tone, even though he was sure that the piercing eyes that he was sure laid behind that infernal mask, were amused by his rage.

The man's voice however betrayed none of it, as he was as dispassionate as before. "It seems I am in need of a valet, and you seem to fit the bill quite nicely."

The former pilot had to do a double take. He couldn't have heard right. The man surely didn't mean for him to become…his manservant! "Forget it! That's not fair, there is no way—"

"One, this is an order, not a request. And since you committed yourself to obeying my orders, I suggest you start getting into the practice. And two, I don't think you want to truly defy me, do you? It is not quite the safest thing to do. Many people can end up hurt that way…some more meaningful than others."

Suzaku's mouth snapped shut in anger, while his jaw set firmly in a simmering, but silent, show of defiance. How could anyone use the same tone of voice that they used to order pizza, to threaten the lives of the guiltless? The leader of the Black Knights seemed to be able to pull it off nicely. He could almost feel Zero's smirk as the masked man leaned his head against his fisted hand.

"You claim that you have always had such a sense of right and wrong, of black and white." Zero softly laughed, amused. "How noble, idealogic, and utterly _naive_ of you… Who are you to know who is innocent and who is guilty?"

"Do you not do the same?!" Suzaku snapped back, the rage, linked with his strained psyche, was pushing the Japanese boy to the breaking point.

Zero looked over at him in question, "No, I don't think I have ever claimed to be a god."

His eyes flew up in shock at the accusation, the indignation of his voice reducing him to stutters. "T-That's not fair!"

Zero sighed and began to redirect his interest back to the computer screen, his voice once more becoming dispassionate and disinterested. "You say that so often. I wonder what your basis for comparison is…"

_**That was IT!**_ Suzaku leaped forward toward the desk, ready to put his hands around the man's throat and squeeze as hard as his could! He had never tried hand-to-hand combat against the fiend, but even now he was game to try if it meant that he would get a chance to break to this bane of humanity's neck! At least then he could wipe that in apathy right off his masked face!

For the sake Kururugi's ego, Zero at least slightly raised an eyebrow at the ex-Britannian officer's attack. However, in all, his demeanor never changed, which sparked Suzaku's anger even more.

The young teen was about to snatch at the lapels of the infernal demon prince's garments, but he soon found his legs kicked out from under him, and himself thrown on his stomach to the floor! The sweet kiss of a knife's blade was laid against his throat, the point drawing a single bead of crimson blood.

His hands were quickly and firmly held behind his back, and a firm and painful pressure of a heeled army boot, was placed upon his back. Looking over as far as the sharp metal would allow, Suzaku gritted his teeth as he saw that it was the lavender-eyed, emotionless escort that had derailed him. His hold of the knife was solid, and his foot was firmly on his prisoner's back, holding him down.

For a couple seconds, the room was completely silent, except for the steady clickity-clacking of Zero's graceful fingers.

When he spoke again, he seemed almost amused by the male's actions. But even a four year-old child would know that there was deadly steel buried behind that seemingly benign amusement…

"For a person with such high morals, you have quite a death wish. I would take better care of my life if I were you."

Suzaku jerked his head up as far as the escort would allow, he let forth a vicious growl. "Screw you…"

It was then that the automatic doors to the chamber shifted open; four armed guards carrying the Knights' insignia entered, and surrounded the restrained prisoner. The lavender-eyed boy, hauled him roughly to his feet, keeping the knife at his throat and his wrists secure while one of the guards handcuffed him. Another guard put manacles around Suzaku's ankles, the chains allowing him enough room in which walk, but not to run.

As Zero watched the captive ex-soldier from the corner of his eye, he smirked at the fact that though the boy was bound, his spirit was quite far from broken. He had watched Suzaku grow considerably more withdrawn as he spent day upon day, alone in his cell, cut off from all human contact. He would have wished to leave him in there for another month longer, but alas the enemy was moving, and by default, so would he. However, everything would still go according to plan. Kururugi Suzaku completely and utterly trapped in his silent, but uncompromising web. He had nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and if he even tried to hide, the dark prince would be unforgiving in his castigation. He let a simpering countenance come over his natural features, as he recalled Suzaku's declaration from only a few minutes ago.

…_I tell you now—I will __**never**__ belong to you!_

Never a more false statement had ever been uttered. The young solider just didn't know it yet…

"When we complete our relocation process, I will then clarify to you the specific parameters of your duties, as well as the location of your new quarters."

The Japanese male ground his teeth in anger, before spitting on the floor in defiance. "Don't do me any favors."

The russet haired ice block of an escort, did a sudden, perfect spin kick so hard against his abdomen, that Suzaku didn't have time to hold back the gasp of pain as he doubled over, the wind knocked out of him. A loud resounding crack issued through the air as two of his ribs snapped under the kick's force.

He expected Zero to chastise the boy for acting out of line as he had with his other knights the previous time, but instead, the masked leader seemed to completely ignore the escort, and only looked up to the guards that had surrounded him.

"Take him to holding chamber three, no one is to touch him, unless he resists. Do you understand? _No one_."

Suzaku perfectly understood, as he tried to get the reverberating agony of his broken bones under control. "No one" included medical staff, meaning that he had a very painful journey ahead of him.

As the armed men answered in acquiescence, Suzaku leveled his gaze at his masked nemesis. He might not be able to see the other's eyes, but he could feel their intense gaze. Something had happened this day, the rules of engagement were shifting and his adversary had home field advantage. However, in no terms was he backing down. He would never submit to the man who was his captor. He would take the abuse and the captivity for Lelouch's sake, but he would never relinquish his soul.

The lines had been drawn, now it was a matter of who would back down first…

As the guards took Suzaku away, the door swished closed, leaving the young lieutenant alone with his leader.

"I don't trust him, nii-sama."

Zero barely glanced up from the info that flashed on the computer screen. "You don't trust _anyone_, Rolo."

The amethyst eyed boy—Rolo Lamperouge—let his hand slowly drift to a small locket charm that hung from the cell phone at his waist, his voice for once, showing the slightest bit of emotion and tenderness. "That is not _quite_ true, nii-sama…"

Putting a hand to his mask, he activated a fingerprint lock that released the catches for the obscure headpiece. "Rest assured, Rolo…I have not misplaced or placed any kind of trust needlessly. You need not worry; Suzaku will dance by my tune or no one else's—that I can assure you."

"How, when he hates the very air you breathe?"

Zero's violet eyes flashed with a balance of self-possession, superciliousness, and intelligence that very few could accomplish in point of fact. "I know him better than anyone, and even if it takes drastic measures, the former-pilot of the Lancelot, will choose the correct side, he will be mine to command, and it will be willingly I might add."

Rolo's mind was full of doubt that such a thing could be accomplished, but he also knew that nii-sama never failed anything he set his complex mind too. If he said that the young Eleven ex-soldier would readily join them, then he would. Rolo knew that for a fact.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Well, what do you think? This is my first original chapter and I am a little nervous about it. blush I wanted to say that in reference to Rolo, my version of Rolo is that he is: **

**1) actually is Lelouch's little half-brother (How that came to be will be explained in later chapters) **

**2) he never worked for Britannia, and he joined the Black Knights around the same time his brother formed it **

**3) I hate to disappoint any Rolo/Lulu fans, but Rolo and Zero/Lelouch's relationship is totally platonic. They have extreme loyalty to each other, and Rolo worships his older sibling. He does also care for his sister, Nunnaly. **

**And 4) Rolo is not as unstable as he was in the original anime. He does have some emotional scars from his abusive childhood, but he does not snap from one extreme to the other. Rolo does have the same geass ability that he does in the anime, but it was given to him by C.C. as a child. **

**I hope that will help to explain some things. I'll catch you next time. Ciao!**

**PS: Oh, by the way, I used one of my favorite quotes in here from one of my favorite childhood movies. See if you can find it!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Nunnally Lamperouge turned her head slightly at the sound of the door opening. She smiled as she heard the approaching footsteps, recognizing their owner right away.

"It's been a while, nii-chan. I missed you."

The russet-haired teen kneeled down next to his sister's chair, letting his hand graze affectionately against her long hazelnut curls. For the first time in weeks, he let a tiny smile grace his face. It was a reaction that only his beloved sister could bring to him.

"I missed you as well, Nunnally."

The young fugitive princess turned her chair towards him, "And how is nii-san? Is he getting enough rest? Enough to eat?"

Rolo leaned against the table beside her as he felt his smile widen. "He is very well, little one. However, I think nii-sama has a habit of overworking himself, but what can you expect?"

His sister laughed contentedly, "Lelouch does have a habit of going overboard once he sets his mind to something."

"He wished he could be here, but a lot of things came up, so he told me to take you by myself and give you the time of your life."

Nunnally frowned a little, her voice lowering to a slight whisper, "I've heard that Britannia is increasing their forces in the Kyoto and Nakashima areas. Is nii-san in trouble?"

Rolo sobered up fast, remembering the true reason his brother had told him to depart for Ashford Academy. Whenever the enemy began drawing closer to the area where their sister lived, along with her maid and substitute caretaker Sayoko, Lelouch made sure that one of them was by her side.

However, even though their little sister allowed them to protect her, she also made sure that she could protect _them_ in her own way.

It hadn't been long after Rolo had regained his sibling kin that Nunnally had confronted the two of them with the truth about the dangerous double lives her dear brothers lived. It shouldn't have really surprised them. Both Lelouch's intelligence and Rolo's resoluteness had dripped off into their younger sister, and while she feared for their lives, she understood their motives and the need they had, to do what needed to be done. She was no lover of her native country, and even she understood that the status quo of the world, was in great need of change.

So yes, she understood why her beloved siblings did what they did. She only asked one thing of them.

* * *

_  
_

_"Lelouch, please, I ask only one thing of you, other than that you keep yourself safe."_

_Rolo watched as his brother's back stiffened in surprise at the pleading in Nunnally's voice. He knew that the oldest of them would never deny her anything she asked for. However, he wanted to make sure his dear sister understood._

_Going to his knees before her, he took her hand in his own. "Nunnally, I assure that nothing will happen to Lelouch. I will protect him with all that I am. I will make sure that he comes to no harm."_

_She smiled and it felt as if the sun had appeared within the room in order to shine down on him. "Thank you, Ro-chan. I trust you, but make sure you **both** come back to me in one piece. Okay?"_

_He smiled back at her tenderly, "Hai."_

_Nevertheless, she looked up to the raven-haired seventeen-year old, who still had yet to say a word. She knew he had been surprised and a little ashamed that she had found out his secret and now he was speechless._

_"Lelouch?"_

_Even without seeing his face, both siblings could hear the emotional strain in the eldest's voice._

_"You know there is little, almost nothing that I would deny you…but…"_

_He suddenly turned around and went to his knees on the other side of her, his violet eyes looking up at her beseechingly, "But please don't ask me to discontinue my endeavors! I beg of you not to ask that off me. I beg you—Nunnally!"_

_The young girl cringed at the imploring plea she heard in her brother's voice, and silently realized that if she honestly and truly asked Lelouch to cease being Zero, to dissolve the Black Knights, to bring an end to everything that he fought and bled for…he would do it._

_Like she would ever do that._

_She smiled at his unending loyalty and placed a caring and gentle hand upon his head, mussing his soft black hair, "Onii-san, I would never ask that of you. There is only one thing that I request of you," She turned her head slightly towards Rolo's direction as well. "both of you."_

_She knew she had their attention as she said, "Do NOT lie to me. Do not keep things from me. Let me help you in this impossible task that you have chosen to bear. Lelouch, I know that I don't have the capabilities to fight out there. But let me do what I can. Let me __help you, nii-san. Do not hide from me."_

_Lelouch smiled and let out a relieved laugh, "I am sorry Nunnally, for concealing this secret from you. I only wanted to spare you from the harsh realities of my other life. If anything were to happen to you—"_

_"Nothing is going to happen to me, Lelouch. I trust you and Rolo to protect me." She then smiled wryly, "However, I do know that you two are not always the angels that you lead others to believe. Do not think you can disillusion me, dear brothers. I know you have many facets to your visage."_

_Rolo looked over to Lelouch with a smirk, "It seems we have underestimated this charming young woman, nii-sama."_

_Lelouch smiled as he squeezed his sister's small hand, feeling the deceptive frailness within it. Behind this physically delicate girl was a clever and sharp mind that would never stop surprising him. He should have expected nothing less from his beloved sister. He had to agree with his half-brother's statement. He, of all people, had misjudged her. "Nunnally…I am truly sorry for withholding the truth. I truly only wished to protect you. I would never lie to you without reason. I accept your offer of help, darling sister, as long as your safety and happiness is assured. But truly, your support is all I need to keep me going."_

_The burnished blonde laughed in amusement, "I can help in more ways than that big brother, like covering for you and watching your back here at the academy. If you have Rolo as your number one man, then I want to be your number one woman."_

_Lelouch smiled and laughed kindly, "There can be no doubt of that. You will always be my number one woman Nunnally."_

_"No way, nii-san! I do __actually expect you to marry sometime this millennium." She commented with light rebuke against her brother's lack of a real love life._

_He looked at her pleadingly, "Aww, couldn't it be _next_ millennium?"_

_As all three laughed, Nunnally was glad that an understanding had finally been found between them. It might not last once the three went back to their own worlds of everyday, but at least in the privacy of this little time to call their own, there was a semblance of peace that had come over their small family. And she would make sure that it could sustain them for the long and lonely nights that were to come…

* * *

  
_

"He's fine Nunnally, he knows that you worry for him and that is enough for him remember to watch himself." Rolo grinned at her with reassurance.

She nodded in acquiescence, before smiling up at him widely, "So where are we going today, Ro-chan? I've been waiting all week!"

Her auburn-haired brother smiled. Even though his little sister could be very mature at times, he (and he was sure Lelouch) was constantly reminded that she was still only an adolescent girl who still had quite a bit of her innocence remaining. She was like any other customary, excited child who was looking forward to having a fun weekend that she had been anticipating all week.

Gently taking a hold of the back of her chair he began to head her to the door, "Well, I thought we could spend some time at the park. We could check out some of the booths and stands that are there and then maybe get some ice cream. Then, if we have time, we could go visit some Japanese friends of mine? How does that sound?"

Nunnally leaned back in her chair in total relaxation, trusting Rolo to lead her where she needed to go. "As long as it's with you, anything is fine."

The boy smiled tenderly at the amount of trust she placed in him, only to quickly hide behind a mask of ice when another voice called out behind him.

"Rolo-sama? May I speak with you a moment?"

He leaned down and ruffled his sister's hair caringly, before turning around and walking towards the speaker, "What is it Sayako-san? We are quite busy."

The nursemaid inwardly sighed at the lack of emotion in the young man's voice, but she was used to it. "There is something I think you should know."

At the sound of continued silence, she looked at the young mistress, before lowering her voice even more, continuing, "For the last couple of days, I have seen a suspicious young man hovering near your sister. I am usually able to intervene, but yesterday, he even tried calling out to her and I had to tell him sternly to back off."

The amethyst eyes narrowed to slits and Sayako had to stop her self from unconsciously shivering under their gaze. "And you have no idea of his identity or his intentions?"

She shrugged, "I assumed his intentions were like that of any man with ill intentions, who happened upon a unsuspecting, naive, little blind schoolgirl,"

This time she did shiver at the arctic countenance that had suddenly developed upon her newest master's face.

"B-But as to his identity, I have no idea who he was. He is not one of the students here, and I doubt that he is one of Lelouch-sama's friends or associates."

"Describe him."

"He was about 5'11, lithe but muscular frame, brilliant, almost unearthly emerald green eyes, dark silver hair, pale skin, he was not a Japanese or Britannian; I would say that he was perhaps Eastern European. He looked about your or Lelouch-sama's age."

Rolo nodded, storing the information for a later, more detailed investigation. "Thank you for informing me. You need not worry about either of us today. Nor do you need to worry about this man. Nunnally will come to no harm."

The maid nodded, "I know that, I was only worried that perhaps it had been well…it Lelouch-sama or Nunnally-sama were to…"

He looked at her sharply with a warning. There would be no mention of "that" while his little sister could come into earshot.

He knew that if Lelouch or Nunnally were discovered alive and it was reported back to Britannia, it would spell real trouble for the two of them. They would have to go into practically, "subterranean" level hiding and the family that he had come to rely on would be ripped apart. And if that wasn't enough, Lelouch's other life as Zero would be considerably handicapped as it wouldn't take the enemy long to connect the two identities.

Rolo would not let that happen. He would let nothing harm either his brother or his sister that had somehow entered his life, and created order out of the insanity that had once threatened to consume his mind…

"Thank you once again, Sayako. We will be back around eight tonight. I'm going to take Nunnally out to dinner, so you don't need to fix anything. You can take the rest of the day off."

Even though he said it so dispassionately, the young Asian woman smiled. She could tell between Rolo's normal apathetic nature, and when he was actually angry. "Arigato, Rolo-sama. I will see you tomorrow."

The boy nodded before going back over to his sister and placing a hand on her chair handles. As he began to wheel her out the door, his demeanor did another 180 and he once again smiled happily down at the girl. "Shall we be on our way?"

She tilted her head towards him and grinned, "Let's go, nii-chan! I want to get to the park before the ice-cream vendor leaves. I love her vanilla peppermint."

He ruffled her hair as he rolled her to the elevator and pressed the down button. "Don't worry, you'll get your ice cream, even if I have to go all the way to the other side of town and buy you a pint myself."

Nunnally just giggled at the statement as she heard the elevator chime and felt Rolo guide her inside. Once the doors closed she asked, "What did Sayoko-chan want to talk about?"

"Oh, it was nothing you need to be concerned about."

She frowned at her half-brother's response, "What did you about lying, Ro-chan?"

He could almost feel the other man's shrug, "I am not lying, little one. It truly is a matter that you don't need to be concerned about. You, my little sister, do not need to have a single concern in your head, other than that of the hectic life of a schoolgirl. You know I won't stand for anything else. I will take care of it."

"Hmph…and I thought _Lelouch_ was overprotective." She stated dryly as she rolled herself from out of the elevator once the door dinged open.

Rolo instantly took control once again, rolling her over against a wall, before handing her, her jacket to put on as he placed a blanket over her legs. He put on his own jacket before rolling her outside using a side entrance where they wouldn't be easily seen by academy students. Stopping to put on a pair of mirrored sunglasses, he began to lead her down the streets towards the park.

Nunnally filled her lungs with fresh air and let the song of the nearby bluebirds take her away. Because she could not get around as easily by herself, she enjoyed these days where it was entirely hers, where her brothers would take her anywhere she wanted to go and she would have a feeling of peace around her. There would be only one thing that would have made those days perfect, but since that was impossible, there was a pretty good alternative…

"Describe to me what you see, please Rolo?"

The boy smiled despite the intensity of his awareness at that moment. He began to depict in great detail, the surroundings and the people that were within them, tell his sister of the world she couldn't see. However, as he did such, he was silently accessing every person who came within his area of vision. The glasses he had on, a gift from Lakshata, enhanced the entire area into little computer screens within the sunglass lenses. Thanks to miniscule cameras in different places on the glasses, he could see at 360 degree range and focus on any one place or person of his choosing.

While he entertained Nunnally, he kept a wary and intent eye out for all signs of danger, and especially for the man which Sayoko described. He had never seen such a man at Ashford or within the Black Knights. When he got to a computer he would check the files to be sure, but he was pretty sure that he wouldn't find anything about the silver-haired, green-eyed man there.

_Who was he? What did he want? What did he want with Nunnally?_

Rolo had no clue as to this mysterious man's true intentions, but he was sure of one thing. If the man wanted to get to Nunnally—he would have to get through him first…

* * *

In a motel room about two blocks away from Ashford Academy, Mikhail Jaikovsky watched Nunnally Lamperouge through the set of binoculars as she made her way to the park, an unknown male by her side.

Turning away, he wrote down a quick description of the male for later analysis. It was strange that the frail girl would be in the hands of anyone other than her maid or older brother. This other boy must be either a trusted family friend or classmate of some sort, or he was kin that he had yet to discover. But that had to be impossible. The Lamperouge children had completely rejected their paternal side, with good reason. And Empress Marianne had only conceived two children…didn't she?

"Has the princess finally left her castle?"

Mikhail turned an emerald eye towards his partner, frowning at the sarcastic statement. "She's no longer a princess, Sasha(1). She is our last hope of salvation."

Aleksandra Jaikovsky stretched her arms and yawned before getting up from the sofa and walking over to the fridge. Removing two energy drinks, she walked over to her twin brother and handed one to him. "She will always be a princess, Misha(1). It is her birthright."

Mikhail watched his twin and partner in crime as she sat next to him at the window and looked out with her own pair of binoculars. She looked a lot like him, her silver hair longer than his was plaited down her back, her sparkling, luminous green eyes accenting her pale skin. However, there was where the outward similarities ended, His Sasha looked innocent where was always guilty, coy where he was blunt, her femininity did wonders for her job, but his masculinity had only got them trouble. But despite her delicate appearance, Aleksandra was as experienced in battle and warfare as he, and her mind was sharper than a razors edge, and he would not replace her for the world.

He looked back out the window as the Britannian princess crossed the street and out of his range of vision. He felt the tattoo on his left shoulder throb at the sight of her and unconsciously rubbed at the covered mark.

A light hand touched his and halted his hand. He looked over at his sister and was sure that the identical mark on her shoulder must feel the same.

She smiled at him with reassurance, "It will be alright, Mikhail. We will get to her in time. We have not searched for her these last seven years, to be turned away now."

He nodded his acquiescence, "We will find a way to her Aleksandra…for your sake."

His Sasha laughed at that before walking over and plopping listlessly on her bed. "For _**both**_ our sakes, мой брат(2)."

* * *

Suzaku opened his eyes slowly, and was automatically overtaken by intense pain. He flinched and gritted his teeth in order to slowly stave it off. Not even bothering to open his eyes any further, he closed them tightly using the darkness the action brought, as a shield while he reassembled his thoughts.

What had happened to him? Where was he?

He let his mind wander back and search his mind for memories, and it wasn't long before he could remember everything that had happened before he had passed out from the pain.

The battle, his capture, the "offer" given to him by Zero, the isolation chamber, his confrontation with Zero…everything began to snap back into place as he cleared the cobwebs from his brain. Just as he remembered the injury the young lieutenant had given him, his ribs decided at that moment to give a painful reminder of their still fractured state, causing him to sharply gasp in response.

It didn't hurt as much as before, but then again, the air smelled somewhat free here, so he didn't think he was within his steel prison any longer.

_Don't let that thought raise up any false comfort, Kururugi. Be sure that that masked demon still has you within his clutches, and that you are still in enemy territory. You __cannot__ let your guard down._

Once he had been taken away from Zero's office, he had been thrown into a metal storage container with the doors quickly shut and locked behind him. Alone in total darkness, with the agony of his jostled ribs bearing down at him, as well as the mental pain that he had gone through at his confrontation with the Black Knights' leader, he had simply lain on the metal floor trying to catch his bearings. He had been so tired…tired of fighting, tired of living, tired of everything. It was no wonder that he had soon drifted into a restless sleep, still chained and shackled.

When he had finally awoken, he had no idea how much time had passed, but he was still in the same position he had been in, in the same dark container. As he had slowly moved his body from out of its painful position and sat down in the back of the metal compartment, he had silently wondered if he had been forgotten about. He knew that this was not the place that Zero had ordered his men to take him. If the man had wanted them to take him to storage compartment, then he would have said so. Zero had had no need to sweeten his words, and he was nothing if not articulate.

Yes, he was sure that the masked man had had no idea that he had been left to make his trip to the next OBK base inside a stuffy and exceedingly hot metal box that had become very, very uncomfortable, very quickly. With his incredibly stiff muscles held in their trapped positions by metal binds, his fractured bones screaming at him, his stomach grumbling at him, his bladder crying at him, the scorching metal searing into his skin, and his bruises turning even blacker than the darkness that surrounded him…it was actually the lack of oxygen that had finally caused him to go completely unconscious without warning.

He had had many fitful dreams and hallucinations after that, that until he had awoken here (wherever "here" was) everything else was a blur to him. He had imagined everything from his mother's and sensei, Tōdō Kyōshirō's voices in his head, to that of his classmate, Kallen Stadtfeld, and even Lelouch's voice spoke to him in his hazy, delusional mind.

He inwardly laughed at that. In the world of his mind he had heard Lelouch whisper sincerely in his ear that he was so sorry that he had been subjected to such suffering and that he had not meant for him to endure such treatment. Suzuku had wanted to tell his friend that this had in no way been his fault that he had nothing to apologize for, but he could not say anything before his delirium got even worse and his mind went totally blank.

Now that he was finally conscious, aware and utterly alive, he reminded himself of the situation at hand and began to think out his next course of action. He was still a prisoner, and he was being forced to serve the prince of Hell himself, and he had to be ready. He had to reserve his strength for the next time he crossed paths with Zero, which he knew was a meeting that would come much sooner than he would probably be ready for. The masked fiend was a master at turning one's weakness into his own advantage, and Suzaku was definitely at the weakest he had been in a long time…

However, before he could think any further, a voice suddenly admonished him!

"You know, I know you're awake so, are you going to suffer there in silence, or are you going to let me treat you?"

Realizing that he wasn't alone, Suzaku snapped his eyes open at the unfamiliar voice and at once, looked into a pair of the clearest blue eyes he had ever seen. Standing above him, in a completely white room covered entirely in state-of-the-art medical equipment and supplies, was a tall young man who looked around his age. He wore an OBK issue sleeveless shirt and pants; his bright blond hair was tousled all over his head, only the small tight braids at the base of his head gave any semblance of order.

His wiry body had seen much action as told by the pale pink scars that ranged large to small, puckered over his naked arms, along with the long thin one that came diagonally over his right eye. His bright, flawless smile almost blinded him as he looked warily at the new stranger. He seemed awfully happy to see him awake for someone who was supposed to be his enemy. A lot of things about the strange man confused him; however the most confusing thing yet was—

"You're _Britannian_…?" His throat felt like there were ten frogs croaking within it.

The young man actually laughed at his statement, before turning and handing him a glass of water, which he took gratefully.

The blond smiled as he drank before saying jovially, "Yes, you can call me 'Britannian' if you want to. Almost everybody else in this place does. But actually, my name is Captain Gino Weinburg, at your service."

Suzaku looked at the man in complete surprise. _What was a Britannian doing wearing a Black Knights uniform, treating him within sickbay?_ And why did the name "Gino Weinburg" sounded so familiar to him? Where had he heard it before?

As he pondered the questions, he looked at his situation and found that he was lying on a hospital bed, and IV stuck in his arm and abandoned oxygen mask was at his side. Bandages were now wrapped around his torso, helping with the healing his now only mildly aching ribs. He was dressed in fresh hospital scrubs and his shackles had thankfully been removed (even though the red marks from them still remained, among other bruises…). Suzaku put his cup down on a table by the side, and watched as the man went over to a glass cabinet and began to pull out a few metal supplies and it was as he leaned over, that a small object fell out from the folds of his shirt. It was a thin blue and white rectangular item that hung from a strap around the captain's neck—an article that Suzaku was all too familiar with. It was the ignition key to a knightmare…the man was a knightmare pilot.

That was when the recognition clicked.

Of course he should have recognized the man's name. He was only one of the most famous pilots within the Britannian ranks!

He looked up at the blond who was now busy preparing an injection of some sort, with entirely new eyes. This buoyant, windswept man dressed in enemy clothing, was none other than, Lord Gino Weinburg—ace captain of the Britannian Air Force, pilot of the knightmare _Tristan_, and the Knight of Three within the emperor's Knights of the Round!

_What the heck was such a man doing within the ranks, of the most wanted man in Britannian history?!

* * *

  
_

**(1) Misha is a Russian nickname for Mikhail, just as Sasha is a Russian nickname for Aleksandra. Think of how the English names William and James can be shortened to Bill and Jim.**

**(2) мой брат is Russian for "my brother".**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yes, I know it has been a long time, but, I am trying my best in the midst of everything that's going on in my life. Chapter 6 should be up soon. Until then, Ciao!**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Suzaku followed Gino's movements as he administered an injection to his arm with practiced movements.

His throat still dry and tired, he asked quietly. "What was that?"

"Just a small stimulant to help your body regain its abilities, or _something_ like that." The blond winked at him as he threw away the hypodermic and put away the vial. "I'm not really a doctor so I know next to nothing about what most of this stuff does. I'm only helping out Lakshata, since she's been called away to the hanger for the last day or so. Something to do with updating the knightmares or something."

Trying not to let the man's obviously flippant behavior worry him, Suzaku frowned at the name of the Indian female who had helped in interrogating him weeks ago. His mood darkened, he replied snidely. "So is that _woman_ the only doctor here? If 'doctor' is what you want to call her…"

While writing down some notes the Britannian smiled gently at his sarcasm, "Hey, don't talk like being of the fairer sex is an insult. That kind of mindset will make your stay here, even less enjoyable than I imagine it already is. Lakshata is as good as they get, she's an excellent doctor and an even better scientist. I can personally attest to the fact that that girl can work wonders with technology. I mean, my _Alcyone_ has never flown better!"

"I thought your knightmare was called _Tristan_." He said, giving Weinberg a sideways glance as he tried to figure out the puzzle that was plaguing him. Here was a man who was not only a Britannian, but a very high ranking one at that, working on the side of the enemy. He spoke of them with respect and admiration, and it seemed that they trusted him enough to not only leave him alone unchaperoned, but also to take on responsibilities and pilot a knightmare frame! Was he a spy? A prisoner like him? What was the lord's story?

Gino, who had quickly realized his mistake, froze for a second before looking back over to his patient. He smiled before continuing to put stuff away. "I should have known that a knightmare pilot like you would have heard of me. Seeing as you're Japanese, I'm almost sure they would have made sure that I was ground into your mind." He finished putting things away and then went to clean the table.

Suzuku was a little surprised to hear a Britannian, especially one with such an aristocratic background, refer to him as "Japanese". However, as he thought about it, it did make sense that when you were in the enemy camp, you would do your best to not draw attention to yourself by angering them.

He inwardly gave a wry smile. It had been a month before he had figured that out. And as much as didn't want to admit it...not being called an "Eleven" felt quite refreshing.

He shook his head to bring himself back to attention as he realized that Weinberg was speaking again.

"I guess that is why Zero _'suggested'_ that I take over for Lakshata. You need someone to help slide you into things."

Suzuku had no doubt that there was anything that the dark leader didn't do without some sort of ulterior motive. But he kept his ideas to himself as he kept his eyes on Gino's movements. Though he obeyed his Britannian masters, he had never trusted them.

The blond pulled a chair over to the bed, before turning it around and sitting in it backward. "Well, I have no problem with that. You're young and not bad looking, I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

For some strange reason, Suzuku had to fight to stop his face from flushing at the small compliment. He succeeded, even though the other man still gave him a look of amusement.

He smiled without a trace of discomfort, "In answer to your first question; yes, my knightmare was once called _Tristan_. However, once I became a black knight, my baby was reborn with me."

The man actually laughed at Suzaku's incredulous and spellbound countenance. "Ok, I think it might be better if I simply started at the beginning. I'm sure you're wondering what I'm even doing here among the enemies of the empire."

The Japanese boy gave a barely noticeable nod, not wanting to show the great amount of curiosity that he felt. "Well, let's see," the blond said as he sat down and made himself comfortable. "I guess, like most good stories, I should start at the beginning. You ready for this?"

Suzaku nodded, making his body relax, glad for a chance to lower his guard and simply listen to the man's tale.

"Well, as you probably know, I was born into a noble Britannian family. My father was a marquis, my mother, a duchess. Together, they had such prestige and wealth that we were second only to the royal family, the envy of our neighbors and associates. And I as the only son and heir, was given free reign and became selfish and spoiled, as was expected of the Britannian aristocracy. I spent my time with the nobles and played with princes, I had servants and slaves at my every beck and call since I was born. I know you've heard the old adage about those who are born into wealth and prestige; that they are born with silver spoons in their mouths. Well, if that's true, then mine was platinum.

I was denied nothing, nor was a harsh or chastising word spoken towards me. My parents and I never had much contact, as the life of an aristo has little time or desire to spend on such things as actual affection. My tutors and nannies never took the time to discipline me either. It's actually amazing that I didn't turn out more warped than I did, and at least set myself to my own moral standard. But yeah, for the most part, I was given free reign to do whatever I wished with my life as long as I didn't bring any sort of shadow over the Weinberg title. But I came close to even _**that**_ a couple of times in my childhood.

When I was fourteen, I had been chastised for risking the family name by going with a few other spoiled rich nobles of the area, to sneak into an army base and go joy riding in some of the old knightmares. Though I had first gone just because I was supremely bored, it quickly became more than that. It had been the first time I had seen a knightmare up close, but when I finally beheld one, something clicked inside me that I had never felt before. It was like something had been turned on inside me that couldn't be turned off again. I didn't know what it was then; it wasn't until later that I understood that it was because I had found my calling that I had felt that way.

However, at the time I was still a self-centered kid, and I and the others were quickly caught in our antics. Needless to say, the army officials barely gave us a slap on the wrist in the face of our prestige and familial connections, and my parents did the same, as of course I expected of them. I sat around the family estate, supposedly "grounded", alone and surrounded by servants who cowered before my every demand, and utterly dying of boredom from day's start to night's end. One night however, changed my life forever.

I was sitting by the side of the pool and I had ordered a servant girl to fetch me some iced tea. When it was finally brought out to me, I was in such a bad mood that I yelled at the slave, throwing the drink back in her face, telling her to clean up the mess. I still remember seeing her standing there; dripping wet, an underlying string of rage made her foreign eyes shine with fire. In hindsight, I think she had been new to the estate and had only been working there for about six months, so in retrospection it was understandable what had happened next. As I stalked off from the swimming pool to find somewhere else to haunt, the sound and feel of a glass smashing against my back stopped me in my tracks.

The girl looked upon me with venom, her fists clenched. "Clean it up yourself, you narcissistic, lackluster, hedonistic—**brat**!"

The woman stalked off, leaving me to stare at her in shock. No one, not even my parents had talked to me such, and I was flabbergasted. It was almost a whole minute before I stepped forward to follow her, but by then the incident had already been found out by the main housekeeper (who, of course, was Britannian). The Ten was dragged back to the poolside and thrown to the ground before my feet. I only stood there staring, as the girl was forced to apologize and beg me for forgiveness. Of course I had been groveled to before, but it was the first time that I saw—actually saw—the rebellion that lied beneath. The woman cleaned up the mess and soon disappeared within the estate, but I never forgot her words. They intrigued me, infuriated me, they buried their way so deep under my skin that I could feel them whenever I moved. I guess it was inevitable that it wasn't long before I searched her out…

Turning around the corner of the veranda, I saw her. I didn't know her name but it wasn't necessary. All the servants already knew of last night's incident and being eager to please, readily gave up their compatriot. It was evening once again, and she had been assigned to gardening duty.

"They said I would find you around here."

The woman stopped pruning the rose bushes before whirling around to face me. I could see a look of surprise come over her before she quickly adopted a guarded visage and bowed before me.

"How can I serve you, my lord?" She asked, her head bent low to the ground.

Sitting on a nearby stone bench, I motioned for her to get up. "I wished to talk to you."

"Since when do you, wish to simply 'talk' to your servants, my lord?"

She had tried to ask the question in the least antagonistic way possible, but even through that, the dry humor was quite obvious.

I didn't know how I wanted this conversation to go, but I knew that if I was going to get anywhere, the two of us would have to be on equal terms.

"Listen, I want to talk to you, but in order to do that, we have to be on a level playing field. So let's start over, shall we?"

The servant looked at me with wary, disbelieving eyes. "Is that an order, my lord?"

I shook my head with displeasure, "No, I just want to start over."

She took a step away and put her hand on her hip. "Why so my lord? I am but your servant, a slave."

"Because I want to, now I'll introduce myself, and you can do the same. Alright?"

She said nothing in return, so I continued. "My name is Gino Silvano Weinberg, what's yours?"

She simply looked at me with boredom, "If this is a come-on, I think I'm a little too old for you, Gino Silvano Weinberg."

The woman was about ten or eleven years my senior, and to me that was almost on par with being on the same level as my _mother_…I knew I had no romantic interests whatsoever in her.

"No, nothing like that. I just want to talk to you person to person, not master to servant."

She sat down next to me, "Again I ask, why?"

I looked away, not sure what to say. I didn't really know why I was doing this. I never really cared about any of the servants before; so why was this Ten so different?

"I don't really know why, but ever since yesterday, I've wanted to talk to you; have a _real_ talk with you. And I'm determined to have it."

She looked at me with the first glimpse of real interest I had seen in her, and I felt that this wasn't all a big waste of time. After more of the same kind of chit-chat, I was finally able to wrangle a name from her. The problem was that her name was way too hard for me to pronounce. It wasn't till much later, that I was able to enunciate her whole name correctly. However, at the time, it was too troublesome for my simple teenage mind, so I instead decided to form some sort of nickname.

"What does your first name mean?"

She looked away, embarrassment flushing her face. "You wouldn't understand…"

I smiled, determined to get an answer, "Come on…It can't be that bad."

"Ogre"

I blinked, thinking I had heard wrong, "Come again?"

She turned with a frown, "You heard me. My name literally means 'ogre' in your language, okay? In my culture the meaning is not so much of a big hideous monster, but a sort of infidel, an unwanted encroacher."

Looking away from me, a sad countenance came over her exotic features. "My mother was quite the rebel activist against the Empire, especially after my father was killed. She used _any_ method she could find to get her message out…"

Frowning, I tried not to think of why a mother would give her child such a name, or the pain such a child would endure, knowing that they were just a tool that their parent used to simply further her cause.

There was an uncomfortable silence between us, as I didn't know what to say in face of the Ten's reveal. However, I had paid attention to my tutors, and I suddenly remembered something about Area Ten's origins.

"Didn't your people have several official languages?"

The servant girl looked at me in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"You Tens have several different dialects that you speak. Wouldn't your name mean different things depending on the language?"

Looking stunned for a few long moments before going into thought, the servant girl pondered the question, "I never thought of that, but yeah, in the other languages of my land, my name can mean "protected" or "watched over". It's spelled different of course, but the origin is the same."

She looked away full of thoughtfulness, "I guess I never thought about it that way before. Hmm…"

I smiled, feeling as if I had made some progress. "Maybe you were precious to your mother, and I guess she always wanted you to feel as if you were protected, even if you didn't know it yourself."

A shocked expression was visible on her face for a split-second, before it disappeared and she looked at me wryly, like I was some stupid little kid who had just discovered that two plus two equals four.

"Yeah, I guess that was pretty much it Sherlock, brilliant deduction."

I looked at her in surprise, "I didn't know you could read English literature, how do you know about Sherlock Holmes?"

The smirk that had been on her face disappeared and she stood up and walked away from me, her arms crossed. "Listen, even if I had not read every single work by Arthur Conan Doyle, any person with half a brain would know who Sherlock Holmes is."

She looked at me with angry sea-green eyes. "Just because the rest of the world is made to act dumb in order for you Britannians to make yourselves feel all high and mighty, doesn't mean we're _actually_ that dumb. I could run circles around you academically if I was given half a chance, my _**lord**_."

No one had ever made me feel so ashamed before that night. This woman from Area Ten, a simple slave in my father's household, had told me off for the first time in my life. I didn't know how to react, so of course I just did the first thing that came naturally—I got defensive.

Standing up, I grabbed her arm. "Listen _Precious_, I'm sorry I hurt your pride. But if you're really that concerned about how people see you, then why did you start working in houses?"

Pulling herself from out of my grip, she looked at me as if I was ludicrous. "Do you honestly think, that serving you, is what I want to do with my life? I have dreams and prospects too, just like any other human being, or don't you have those, _**brat**_?"

I suddenly decided that I didn't like being called that name. "Stop calling me 'brat'."

"Don't call me, 'Precious'."

We both stood staring at each other with venom in our eyes. However, I was of course the least experienced in this sort of game. I must say, to my credit, that I had never backed down to anyone before. I had had no reason to. But those eyes, those magnetic aquamarine orbs, almost drowned me beneath their steady, unwavering surfaces. Needless to say, I was the first to turn away.

"Look, I…I'm sorry." I quickly apologized, wanting to put this whole awkward fight behind us.

The woman narrowed her eyes at my apology and crossed her arms defiantly, "I wonder if you even know what you're apologizing for, my _lord_."

I looked at her sheepishly as she then sat down on the stone bench. Leaning her back against a griffin statue, she put her hands behind her head and put up her legs, before looking back at me and letting a genuine smirk appear. "However…I **do** appreciate the effort—brat."

This time, the term was not said in anger, but more so with acknowledgment, and the smallest bit of approval. So, I sat beside her and responded in kind. "Well, I've never really done it with meaning before, Precious."

She let a laugh escape her, "I can believe that. So, you never really answered my question."

I looked at her in confusion and she stared up at the sky as she continued. "Do you have any dreams, aspirations, goals for your life…that sort of thing?"

As the question sunk in, I realized that I had no answer for her. No one had ever asked me such a question, and I had never given it a thought. My dreams? I was the heir to two titles of nobility and had enough money to live ten lavish lifetimes. What did I need with dreams?

In light of my inability to answer, I decided to turn the question on the girl, or Precious as I came to call her, and ask her. "Well, do _you_?"

Precious looked at me sardonically, "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to answer a question with another question?" She absently picked up a fallen rose petal nearby and began to twirl it in her fingers. "Yes, I had dreams once. It might surprise you to know it, but I had a knack for engineering and mechanics when I was able to go to school. To be able to study again…just to be able to get my hands on a few books and read to my heart's content, I would give just about anything in the world."

I stared at her with puzzlement, "If you want to read books and go to school, then why don't you? There are plenty of colleges and libraries around this part of the country."

Precious sighed, "I can see that I didn't get the brightest bulb in the pack." Turning to me, she said with mocking clarity and slowness. "I'm not Britannian, and I am barely an honorary one. It is against the law for me to go to college, and I can only read certain books in the library. All of which I have already read."

She rolled her eyes at me, "You're not a very _informed_, rich, spoiled brat, are you?"

It wasn't that I wasn't informed, but at the time, I was quite naive about the world around me, and I ignored all things that didn't affect **me** in some way. I didn't know what to say in the face of her matter-of-fact statement, so I simply kept my mouth shut.

However, after only a few seconds, Precious dismissed my damning silence and continued. "So, do you have any dreams for yourself, or have you not even thought about it? And don't you dare, change the subject again, brat."

I sighed, knowing I couldn't get out of it a second time. "Fine, I guess it's closer towards the second option…"

"So, you don't know what you want to do with your life? Nothing that sparks your interests?"

At the persistent quiet, she laughed aloud. "Well, I can see that you're going to go far. Not only are you a spoiled brat, but you're dull one too!"

I was tired of having no answer for her questions. No one had ever questioned me in such a way, nor had they even attempted to expose any of my failings. I felt strange in front of her, naked and unsure, not protected by my money or prestige. I knew not what to say to Precious' ridicule.

Her laughter had stopped as soon as it started, and I didn't notice that she had been staring at me intrinsically. "I think I can now understand why you act the way you do. In a way, I sort of pity you."

I stalked away in anger and embarrassment, "I don't need your pity! I only have to speak the word, and anything I want is mine in an instant. Whatever I desire, I get. What do I need your pity for? What do I need your 'dreams and aspirations' for?"

Precious stood to her feet in silence, before saying, "Well, if you think that you have all the answers, then I'm sure you can answer that question for yourself."

The seriousness of her statement struck me so deeply, I didn't think I had parts of my heart that were that deep. I suddenly realized that I had no answer for myself. Even to my young mind, I could quickly realize that my life pretty much amounted to nothing. No amount of money could make my life worth living. I needed more that that. I needed a purpose.

She brushed her long hair from off her shoulder and began to walk away, "Well, it's been wonderful talkin' to ya, brat. However, the night's not getting any younger, and unlike you, I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. So, I'll be saying goodnight, bra—I mean, _my lord_."

It was at the thought of her leaving and things returning back to the way they were, that I knew I would not—could not—allow that to happen.

"Wait! Precious, please."

She stopped in her tracks, but didn't turn to face me. "You are just stubborn about the name thing, aren't you _**brat**_."

She didn't say anything else, and instead waited for me to finish my plea. I had no idea what I was doing, but I decided that the best way to go, was to follow whatever idea my heart gave me.

"I'll make a deal with you."

She turned slightly and I could see the caution, but also the interest, hidden in her eye. "What kind of deal?"

"You said, you like books and stuff about science and engineering, right?"

Precious still didn't face me fully, but she cocked a single blonde eyebrow. "I was studying physics and mechanical engineering when I was younger…or at least when I was allowed to. Why?"

"I want you to be one of my personal servants. I—"

"No thanks, I have enough to do without the headache of cleaning up after a spoiled, little, rich boy." She turned away and began walking away again.

I took a few hurried steps after her, "Please listen! As my servant, you will only be answerable to me, and you will live in a room adjoining mine."

"No dice, I'd rather live in the cold, drafty servants' quarters."

"I'll give you any and all the books you desire."

This made her come to a full stop. "'All the books I desire'? The books I desire are off limits to a _N__umber_ such as myself, my lord."

I could feel her anger and it was understandable. She thought I was playing with her or trying to set her up. But even at my young age, I knew better than to play with a woman's emotions.

"That is why I want you as my personal servant. As my servant, you will be restricted to only working in a certain part of the house and no one will think twice of finding books in my room. I can give you access to any books or articles of the library, the computers, I can even send out for anything else you want to study. You can read and study to you heart's content without getting bothered or found out, as no one can come to my rooms without my express permission. Also, you will have most of your time to yourself, as I don't need another servant, whatever you may think."

I cannot admit I was doing this out of some sense of selflessness; I was very selfish. I wanted her as a companion and eventually a friend. I had no idea of how to have real friends, but I knew that I could not go back to what life was before she had decided to chuck that glass at my head. I had no idea why I was doing this. It was just a sudden compulsion that I had. One that would end up changing the entire course of my life.

She finally turned to me and looked me straight in the eye. I could tell she was at least beginning to think it over. "So, you'll go against your parents and the law to help me achieve my dreams…for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, so what's in it for you?"

I held out my hands in a symbol of benevolence, "There is no great risk. The law would never dare to interfere with any Weinberg affairs, and my parents are never around. The only thing that I ask of you, is to have someone to talk to, who will tell me the truth. I've never met someone who wasn't in some way influenced by my money, my connections, or my title."

She smirked slightly, "You really need to get out more, brat."

At the sound of my newly-christened nickname, I felt more a feeling of relief rather than anger. "So what do you say?"

Putting a finger to her cheek, her eyes lifted in exaggerated thought. "So, let me get this straight. You'll give me access to any books and materials I want, as well as a warm, clean, dry place to sleep, and hardly any work, in exchange for me telling you the truth about the world and giving you little pep talks whenever you want them? Did I get it about right?"

I nodded expectantly.

She shook her head with her hands on her hips, "You are pathetic, you know."

The way she described it, did make it sound a little pathetic, but I was kind of pitiful at the time, if you can think of one of the richest boys in Britannia as "pitiful".

I ignored her statement, and instead, asked simply for her decision.

She stood there thinking on it for what to me seemed like an eternity. Just when I was afraid that she was going to turn down the offer once again, I was surprised when she, finally seeming to make up her mind (or just letting me sweat, I still don't know which to this day), she walked toward me, before simply flicking me in the forehead with her finger, snapping me out of my unknowing daze.

"If you're going to go into a stupor every time I'm around, my job's going to be much easier than I thought, brat." She smiled that knowing smirk that I would come to know well in the future.

"So you agree?" I asked excitedly. I had never had to work to have someone agree with me, and for some reason it felt kind of satisfying.

She shrugged, "Hey, I'm getting the most out of this deal, so I might as well take advantage of it."

Turning, she began to walk away, "Take care of all the particulars with that witch of a housekeeper and I'll be ready and waiting. And _you_ have the first ten journals of the Britannian Institute of Technology waiting for me."

It was a first for me to receive orders from anyone, but I didn't care. I was too excited thinking about the days to follow. "Everything will be arranged. Thank you for the talk, Precious. And I'll be getting more out of this deal than you think."

As she was about to exit the gardens, she raised her hand in a farewell salute. Her voice was soft, yet quite serious, as she answered back. "Yes…yes, I think you will brat. I think you will."

The days and months that followed, everything pulled off without a hitch. The two of us began to know one another and eventually, as I had hoped for, we became good friends. The names "Precious" and "brat" had stuck and became terms of recognition and fondness, rather than irritation.

As I watched her each day self-educate herself, I realized what a genius my new friend was. She would go through textbooks, articles and journals like a hot knife through butter. She would comb through computer programs and with software that I bought her, would design machines beyond my teen imagination. She would even ask for raw materials and broken appliances that she could take apart and turn them into something incredible. Sometimes I would sit there and watch her, and in my heart I began to get a feeling of confusion and injustice as I realized that the thing that made her happy and that would be perfectly alright if _**I**_ was to endeavor in her interests, Precious would never be allowed to use or reveal outside of my suite.

The only way a Number could even study anything beyond basic science, was that one of the parents had to be a natural-born Britannian. And for that Number to even be considered in the upper circles, the person had to be extremely well connected, very rich, and exceptionally brilliant. Other than the brilliant part, these were all things that someone like Precious, who was only a simple honorary citizen and a servant, just didn't have. I of course, knew none of this at the time, and it was Precious who informed me of the ways of the world.

I learned much from her over those months, and I became less and less naive of how the world worked outside of my estate grounds. The more I learned, the more a feeling of uncertainty and conviction began to build up inside of me. It however was not something that would come into full fruition, until much later. Yet, also during the time I spent conversing with her, I eventually began to recognize my own dreams and goals. I had told her of my "visit" to the knightmares and the connection that I had felt when I had seen them for the first time. She showed me some schematics she had seen in one of her books, and together we poured over everything we could find on them. She was interested in how they worked, and I wanted to know how to use them. It was in this time that I spent with Precious that changed the entire course of my life, and led me to my desire to become a pilot.

Precious (and yes, I did eventually learn how to say her real name!), became my first real confidante during this time. I told her everything about my life, and she shared with me in kind. We talked more out of interest, rather than any deal we had made, and I can honestly say, that the several months I spent with her, were some of the best times of my life.

Well, it goes without saying that it was guaranteed not to last…

Maybe we got sloppy, maybe we grew too careless the more familiar we became, but somehow we were found out. When word reached my father, he was outraged. That his son had been in some tryst with a household servant, and a Number no less, was inexcusable. Never mind that I tried to explain to him that I had no romantic interests in Precious, it was of course, a fool's errand. He called the entire household to the entrance foyer and had Precious dragged out before us. He made me watch as he had her flogged before my eyes. It was a moment that will forever be burned in my memory. Every time the whip came down to tear at her flesh, I felt a piece of my heart shatter. I could feel her pain like it was my own, and I wanted to scream to her that I was so sorry for what I had dragged her into. I especially felt genuine hatred, when I saw not a trace of compassion on the faces of those around me. My mother, to my everlasting shame, actually smiled and looked upon the act as entertainment.

Once it was over, Precious was tossed out onto the pathway and told to get off the estate in the next ten minutes, or the dogs would be sent after her. She was to never show her face again and would be blacklisted from ever working for another noble family. My father actually spit upon her, before slamming the door on her battered form.

I couldn't get away fast enough, disgusted by everyone and everything that had happened, and especially with myself. I didn't know what I was doing, but I found a servant's door and raced outside in order to find my friend. I had to help her in some way, to at least apologize. However, I was caught by one of the servants under instructions from my father, just as I caught sight of Precious staggering out of the gate. Even as I was held back, I called out to her, to which she turned and looked back at my struggling form.

I tried to say the words, but they were choked up in my throat, so I tried to convey my apologetic and grief-stricken feelings into my gaze. Precious, despite her injuries and a dismissal that would in all likelihood lead to destitution and death on the streets, simply graced me with that by-now-familiar smirk, and called out, "You take care of yourself brat!"

With that last statement, she closed the gate behind her with a loud clang, and afterward I felt like I had lost a huge chunk of myself in the process.

It goes without saying, that my father's ploy to bind me closer to family's position and manner, only succeeded in driving a permanent wedge between myself and my parents. Precious had helped me to find myself and discover my aspirations. And by God I was going to act on them! In a way, I became a new person from out of the example that my best friend had set.

Not more than a month later, I ran away from home and joined the military, particularly in the Britannian Air Force. I took to flying like a duck takes to water, and I felt absolute joy in my endeavor. I was made to be an aviator and no one or anything could ever tell me otherwise. While I wanted a new start away from the life I had had, my name obstinately followed me and caused me to fly through the ranks. My scores became so high, that the military engineers noticed me, and I was soon given sole use of the newest model of the transformable eighth generation knightmare frame, the RZA-3F9 _Tristan_. While my parents clearly disapproved of my actions and choices, my record, which because of my own determination and zeal, I must admit, was stunning; it pushed up my family's reputation nonetheless. I didn't care though. I had become a pilot, and that was all that mattered to me.

At the age of 15, I was called out to a skirmish in Area 7 where some militants and smugglers had attacked a military base. The place was in chaos, everything was blowing up or being shot full of holes by gunfire. I hadn't been in many firefights at this point in my life, but I took it calmly enough. That is, until I saw that it was not just combatants that were involved. Through the smoke and the noise, I spotted a group of children and young teenagers huddled in fear behind enemy lines. Though they tried to keep out of sight, I knew it was only a matter of time before they were all killed in the crossfire. There was a lot of land to cover between me and them, but I was determined that they wouldn't become collateral damage.

Being of a one-track mind, I fought my way through enemy fire, striking down and destroying all that was in my path. I was on auto-pilot as I pushed _Tristan_ through the melee, my eyes on nothing, no one but the children. In fact, I wasn't fully cognizant of what I was doing until it was all over. Before I knew it, I had delivered the children to the safety of our base, having transported and protected them within _Tristan_'s hand. Not a one of them was harmed.

Once all the dust had cleared and everything returned to rights, it turned out that one of the children that I had rescued was a royal. In return for saving the prince's life, I was bestowed the title "Sir" and became the Knight of Three, the youngest member of the Knights of the Round. I was sixteen years old, and I had barely been in the army two years. My name was already renowned and I was a legend the world over. Nevertheless, I didn't care about titles, legends, or prestige. If I had wanted that, I would have stayed at the estate. As long as I continued to pilot, as long as I was able to feel a knightmare's controls in my hands, I was happy; I was fulfilling my dream. It was enough for me.

I continued in my duties to the empire for another year or so, but five months ago my life changed once again. I was sent by the Emperor to go to Area Eleven undercover and investigate what was happening there. Especially after the murder of Third Prince Clovis, he wanted a preliminary report of what was going on without any politics to taint or sugar-coat it. Because I was so young and not many knew my face, I was the ideal choice. However, I wasn't so pleased on the assignment, subterfuge wasn't my forte and even though it was only to be a short assignment, I didn't think I could survive what I had deemed as the ultimate boredom. But I wasn't to be bored for long.

Before I could even arrive at my location, my transport ship, disguised as a supply vessel, was caught within an ocean battle. Without even thinking, I had run to the hanger in order to grab one of the fighter jets; _Tristan_ was being refurbished at the time and I had to make do with what was available. Going out there, I had my first glimpse of our attackers. There was only a few of them, piloting foreign, but state-of-the-art knightmares. They took out many of our fighters despite what I could tell were novice tactics. I was able to outmaneuver and even cripple some of them, but being in a jet really cut down my offensive capabilities. I was eventually pitted against the assault group's leader. A large scarlet knightmare the likes of which I had never encountered, came to face me, its capabilities putting its companions to shame.

I can see the recognition in your eyes; you know the one of which I speak, for you have also fought her in battle. I was severely outmatched machinery-wise, but I fought nonetheless. And the more I fought against the pilot of the red machine, or the "Scarlet Witch" as I later came to call her, the more I was enthralled. How did I know the pilot was female, you ask? It was all in the flight patterns, in the effortless and graceful, yet utterly vicious maneuvers that betrayed her. When you are as synchronized to the skies as I am, you can notice little things like this. The way that machine flew through the sky, its agility, grace, refinement, and its utter vitality struck a chord deep inside my heart and I felt a thrill I hadn't experienced for sometime. I couldn't wait to actually challenge the combatant on equal terms with _Tristan_ on a level playing field.

Needless to say, I was downed in short order, but I never forgot my first experience with, who I eventually found out was, the Order of the Black Knights. I also couldn't easily forget the thrill and anticipation that I felt at meeting the Scarlet Witch in battle again.

I would have my chance as it seemed, for two days later, we were hit again. We had not been expecting another attack so soon after their last failed attempt, so we were not prepared. I became the only main defense against the rebel group and even I have to admit that I was overwhelmed. The Scarlet Witch again led them; half the team flew off to sink the ship, while she and the other half were sent to keep me and two other jet fighters busy. I knew their purpose in preventing the supplies on my transport from getting to Area 11, was going to succeed despite anything further that I could do, it was all a matter of time.

The fight got more and more intense, though I have to admit I loved every minute of it. It was like I and the Scarlet Witch were in a dance—a lethal, dangerous dance where neither of us could take the high ground or outmaneuver the other. It was even more intense than the last time, and during the whole battle, I wished that lives hadn't been in the balance, that the two of use could have simply have done this for fun or for our own recreation. For I knew that she enjoyed this as much as I, I could tell in her fluid movements that she felt pleasure and delight while with me.

Yet, the real world caught up with us all too soon, for the ship was down, and even now, my people were escaping on lifeboats. I was afraid that the rebels wouldn't let them escape, but the first team of dark knightmares simply left them alone, going for the supplies of the ship instead, that I guessed the Black Knights would use for themselves. Things were going quite smoothly for that bit of the operation, but up in the air where we were, things were getting a little testy. The jets were outmatched in every way, but that didn't mean that the pilots wouldn't give it they're all. I had known both of them only slightly, but I knew that they didn't know the meaning of 'tactical retreat' even if it hit them in the face.

It was no surprise to me when one of them went down, exploding in a ball of fire. The other went berserk at the fall of his comrade, and began recklessly shooting at anyone within his range of fire. Trying to protect themselves, the Black Knights lost all sense of mercy and took the soldier down without a hitch. However, in the process of his last dying moments, the jet's steering went out of control, and it quickly became a flaming ball of death for whoever was in his way. It was too late for any warning before I realized that this included my sparring partner…the Scarlet Witch.

Experiencing a recognizable feeling within my heart, I felt an ache that I hadn't felt since when I had lost my best friend all those years ago. When I empathized with Precious, feeling each of her wounds and anguishes experienced as my own; I felt that same sense of helplessness and vulnerability then, as I did now. But I was older now, I was stronger and wiser. I had made a vow as that adolescent youth, that I would never feel that helpless again, and that when and opportunity of the like arose again, I would do whatever was in my power to correct it.

In these feelings that I held, I knew that I could not let the Witch die. The two of us had never met in the flesh, and had only seen each other twice in only a handful of days, but that didn't prevent me from possessing the stringent desire to save her. Flying out from my position, using _Tristan_'s speed, I sheltered the Scarlet Witch with my own knightmare. It was not a moment too soon, as a split-second later, the exploding, berserker jet slammed into me in a fiery head-on collision!

Though I was the stronger and more durable of the two, the short distance in which I was hit, plus the explosiveness of the projectile, made the jet the equivalent of a short-range missile. _Tristan_ was badly damaged and I could feel the instruments in the cockpit fry and short circuit around me. I couldn't see anything however, as blood covered my eyes, and the pain that my body was under was excruciating. The impact alone had caused great injury to me; shrapnel had pierced through the outer casing and through the controls into the cockpit. I could not have ejected, even if my arm could have moved to give the command; and on top of that, it was obvious that my machine was losing altitude. I was going down like a boulder, into the ocean. The impact against the water sent agonizing jolts against my body. I had never been this damaged in combat before, but I had been with other men who were and it had never ended well.

I had a pretty good feeling that my right leg was mangled and I could tell at least one of my arms was broken, and that the other one might as well have been. The intense, excruciating pressure on my chest, and the horrible trouble I had breathing, were signature marks of a punctured lung, and I think my brain was trying to make a decision on whether or not I had a concussion or a contusion. I was in bad shape and in an even worse position. I could feel the water seeping in around my feet as _Tristan_ began to sink, and there was no way I could move my body enough to escape, even if I could get out of the crushed and charred cockpit.

Yet as I struggled with the agony of imminent death, at one point my vision cleared ever so slightly, and I was able to see from one of the still working view screens. I felt the resistance and tension leave my body as I realized that the Scarlet Witch had survived and was still flying high. I felt a sort of content resignation come over me, like I had accepted my fate and was okay with it. I realize now that I was more worried about her life than my own, and that as long as she survived, what happened to me was non-consequential. I quickly passed out from blood loss after that; not knowing my fate and not really caring.

* * *

A sharp whistle startled Suzaku from out of his daze, as Gino suddenly halted in his intriguing tale.

It took awhile for his mind to return to the present day and situation, as he realized that the untimely interruption had been the door signal. He watched Weinberg open the door slightly and speak quietly with someone, before reaching out and bringing in a tray of food.

He felt his stomach instinctively call out at the smell, and he didn't realize how hungry he was. Gino smiled at the sound of his stomach and placed the tray down on the table. "Well, I guess it is time for a break. I'm betting you're pretty hungry?"

He placed the tray on his lap, taking off the cover to reveal a plate full of native Japanese favorites, from _onigiri_, to _sashimi_. Suzaku's mouth watered at the smell, but even then, he still hesitated. The food could have any manner of poisons or drugs lacing it. He had to be—

Gino swiftly pilfered a piece of fish from his tray and simply smiled at his shocked face while he ate it. "Hey, you think storytelling is easy? I'm getting hungry too."

The brown-haired teen frown and moved the tray a little further away from the Britannian aviator. "Stay out of my food, and finish the rest of the story."

The Third Knight of the Round simply laughed happily, before stealing a pickled plum too.

* * *

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
